


take an angel by the wings, beg her now for anything

by grimesphilia



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 7x01, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Divergence, Carl dies, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt Rick, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Slow Burn, dark au, rick is pretty abused in this, then kinda back to enemies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimesphilia/pseuds/grimesphilia
Summary: "That's your kid," Negan whispers, just to make it so much more real, "How about you look at him. Well, what's left of him."or:The one in which Negan tries to destroy Rick but the tables end up turning





	take an angel by the wings, beg her now for anything

**Author's Note:**

> this one is kind of a lot
> 
> feedback is always appreciated!

He's going to hit them where it hurts. That's what he tells himself.

The kid on the very edge is Rick's son. Negan can tell. The Grimes Glare he wears with one eye may as well be just as bad as it would be with two, one socket covered by lengthy chestnut hair overtop a bandage. He doesn't want to kill the kid. He doesn't. Doesn't wake up in the morning relishing in thoughts of bathing in a pool of baby blood.

He doesn't want to kill any of them. But he reminds himself what they did and takes a second to survey them. Some glower in retort with false confidence, bravado that had died the moment the Saviors had cornered them, surging in through the trees in waves. Others openly quiver. It's over. They know it.

And in the center of the sopping lineup is the man himself. Rick. Pitiful Rick. Negan feels the corners of his mouth twitch. Leers at the sorry fucker.

"Hi. You're Rick, right?"

Rick twitches.

"I'm Negan."

The guy blanches more, if it's even possible. Negan displays a perfect set of pearly whites. Rick's chest heaves. He breaks eye contact.

"And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, _you killed more of my people._ Not cool," His gaze narrows, "Not fucking cool. You have no fucking idea how not fucking cool that shit is."

Rick's trembling like a leaf in the wind and it goads Negan on. Feeds into his sick, fucked hunger. Rick's vision skitters frantically from Savior to Savior back to Negan.

"But, I think you're gonna be up to speed here shortly. Yeah. You are _so_ gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes."

Rick's response is a pleading gaze. He rocks on his knees out of distress. And Negan smiles. Lets the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Fuck yeah, you are."

Because that's just how it is.

"You see Rick, whatever you do, no matter fucking what you do not mess with The New World Order. The New World Order is this - _and it's really very simple_ , even if you're fuckin' stupid, _which you very well may be_ , you can understand it. Now I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it you most certainly motherfucking will."

And he wants to feel bad for shattering their little Utopia but he just fucking can't. They'll come to terms. He tells them how it's going to be. And they don't have much to say about that. Just sit and cry. Rick talks, though. He does a lot of that. Starts pleading for his son's life, and it's just plain filthy - the way it gets Negan going. It's too late for that, now. Negan's got his eyes on the prize.

And he doesn't feel bad when he narrows his gaze in on the kid at the edge of the lineup, because the boy's been living on borrowed time. The kid has the balls to counter with a goddamn stinkeye. Negan nearly snorts. He twirls Lucille at his side, dangles the bat in front of the little Cyclops tauntingly. The kid doesn't falter.

And he's almost tempted to call it off, choose another one of the fuckers. Maybe Ginger over there. But he can't do that now. Can't have regrets, because he's Negan. Man of his word, he is. His grip on Lucille tightens, knuckles white beneath his leather gloves.

And he doesn't usually talk to the people he's about to murder. It's not a normal occurance. He figures killing a kid isn't, either. He kneels in front of the boy so they're level.

"Jeez kid," He tells him, "At least cry a little."

Rick is crying. Negan can see it from the corner of his eye. His son doesn't blink.

"What's your name, kid?" Negan asks, tongue digging into his own cheek out of roused curiousity.

The boy's nostrils flare. He doesn't say. Negan's tongue runs across his teeth. There's a sour taste in his mouth. He almost wants to take the kid with him. Almost. But in the boy's gaze he sees the flicker of a threat. He sees what could become of him.

A lithe little firecracker. A serial killer. And that's a real fucking tragedy, because he knows what needs to happen next.

"Got any last words, kid?"

And the little cowboy doesn't hesitate before hissing, "This isn't over. Don't think it is. You're gonna die. All your men are gonna die. _We'll win_."

Negan's almost rendered silent by his little speech. He bounces back. Wants to ruffle the kids hair and sit him down to watch Sesame Street. And for a second he _almost_ looked threatening.

"How 'bout you take your one ball and take a gander at your pop, huh? What do ya see, kid? Take a look at all your little friends."

Their heads both turn. Rick looks about ready to pitch over. A knowing smirk slowly spreads across Negan's face as the boy visibly swallows.

"I mean, it is over, dude. This is it. Your last day on earth. I bet it must suck ass to know that your little death here means nothing. You're not gonna be avenged, or whatever the fuck else you think is gonna happen. No," He takes a pause to let the kid really stew on that thought, leans in real close to whisper, _"You're gonna die for no damn cause."_

He chuckles, shoots Rick a menacing grin that's got charm behind it, "And that blood ain't on nobody's hands but your own daddy's over there."

Rick screams when Lucille collides with the kid's skull.

"Carl," he bawls.

 _Carl_ lasts an impressive second after the first hit. He sways on his knees like chimes in the wind before Negan cracks his head open on the second and the kid buckles. Rick hurls.

Negan laughs, hits him over and over and over till bits of his scalp cling to the bat and his face is a faceless stump, features no longer fathomable. The sight is gruesome. And Rick just keeps retching onto the gravel.

Negan spares the offenders a glance, takes in their fear and shock and anger like a kid takes apple juice from a juice box. Sucks it all up with a straw till the well runs dry and Rick's wails dwindle.

And Carl's brains are smeared over the gravel, now, but Negan doesn't stop. Won't stop. The kid is a mush and Lucille makes an ugly, morbid squish when she strikes his remains, and the sound is all that rings in the dead quiet between the trees. He's not about to say it's music to his ears, but he might as well pretend. Is hardwired to be this _ruthless leader._

Chunks of the kid's brain that stuck to the wire fling off and daub his father's skin when Negan swings the bat around. It's a smack in the face. And Rick is gone. He launches at him. Doesn't get much further than his hands around Negan's throat, squeezing and aching for a kill, before Negan's men are tackling him to the ground and aiming Daryl's own crossbow at his face. Negan waves them off, rubs his neck.

"Put him back," He says, tutting.

He'll let it slide. Had to give Rick that one. His little boy _was_ splattered across the ground like a goddamn watermelon dropped from three stories high, afterall. He wipes a few gloved fingers over the mess on Lucille, smears a nice, long stripe across Rick's face. And all Rick can do is take it, wear Carl's blood the way Negan wears the spattered dollops on his own face.

"That's your kid," Negan whispers, just to make it so much more real, "How about you look at him. Well, what's left of him."

Rick doesn't. Can't. Swallows back the bile that climbs up his throat only to have it rise again. Negan gets it, he does, registers it as shock rather than defiance, but he also can't make this easy on him. He grips Rick's face roughly, beats his willpower down by coating Rick's beard with the remaining blood on his glove.

"Look at him!"

Rick exterts shaky breaths, gaze stuck ahead of him. Negan turns his head. Forces Rick to stare at the pile of torn muscle and skin and skull and gore that was once Carl's face. It's brutal. A single tear rolls down Rick's cheek.

"You did this. All you. You forced my hand, Rick. I didn't want to, but you made me."

Rick doesn't wail. He doesn't beg. Not the way he did before his boy conked out. Before Negan smashed his child's skull into pieces that scattered all over the ground. Though, there's no reason to. Carl is gone. And that's the ugly truth of it.

"I'm gonna kill you," Rick tells him.

He sounds lost, quiet, keeps looking around himself like he doesn't quite get where he is. Negan crouches over him. Doesn't quite believe his ears.

"What? I didn't quite get that, you're gonna have to speak up."

And Rick gives him _that look_. The same one he gave him before, the same one his kid gave Negan before Negan cracked his head open like an egg. Negan's amused, almost about to remind him what happened the first time before Rick speaks.

"Not today. Not tomorrow. But I'm gonna kill you."

Negan rolls that thought around, notes the way Rick's no longer trembling in fear but out of anger.

"Je- _sus_."

Rick doesn't flinch. Probably feels like a part of him had died along with Carl. Negan's all too eager to show him his mortality.

"Simon, what'd he have? A knife?"

"A hatchet," is Simon's response, and Negan fixes him with a look.

"A hatchet?"

"He had an axe."

His tongue dips out between his teeth and he says, "Sure. Yeah. Give me his axe." before he stands and drags Rick away by the collar.

"Be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we. I mean, _the ones that are left._ "

Rick shuffles over the ground below him, grapples for some kind of control before he's being shucked into the RV, probably with the image of his mutilated son burning behind his eyelids.

 

  
Rick doesn't say anything for a long while. He can't. There's nothing to be said. Negan drives through the night, cracks jokes about his boy's death as the hood of the car collides with walkers.

"Boom!" He exclaims, chuckles vibrantly like the psycopath he is, "That remind you of anyone you know?"

His boy. Carl. His baby.

Rick loved Carl. He did. Wasn't around to show it the way he wished he would've been, wasn't able to in this cruel world where Carl's childhood was ripped from the hands of the both of them. In this world where father turned on son and son turned on father. Where running was the only way to stay alive.

There was a time when Rick had thought they were done running. He almost smiles faintly at the memory. There's not enough time. It's eclipsed by the image of Carl's body sprawled across the pavement, the only distinguishable remainder from his face the soggy bandage that's drenched in his blood and brains. He can feel the bile steadily crawling up his throat.

Rick tries to think of it in a better light. Tries to make himself believe it was for the better. Carl wouldn't have to run anymore. He wouldn't have to participate in the war that would follow. He wouldn't have to watch the people around him crumble into the soil under Negan's reign. He could be at peace.

It's a hard pill to swallow.

Rick knows it's because it's not the truth. Carl would have wanted to keep going. If he had the energy he'd frown. The devastating thing is, it'd been the same way Lori had thought of Judith.

Judy. His little girl at home. And suddenly Rick wonders whether Negan would kill a baby just to spite him. The grim thought worries at the sliver of humanity left within him. Leaves him sullen and bleak. Judy. Carl. His babies.

He feels the trail his tears leave behind before he realizes he's sobbing, flinches and hits himself again and again and again. He thinks of Carl. Carl's lifeless body. The body they would have to carry back to Alexandria. The body they would bury.

Negan stops the car. Pushes and pushes and pushes Rick till there's nowhere left to push him. Pulls back over at the spot where Rick's son lays and yanks him around, threatens him, screams at Rick about how he belongs to him. How his people belong to him. How that little corpse over there _belongs to him._ And then he leaves with the promise to come back and take more of what was once Rick's.

Rick's left staring at Carl's hat, discarded beside his cadaver. And he cries a little harder until all the cry is gone. Until Rick's the shell of the man he was before.

 

  
Rick's standing at the Alexandria gate when the Saviors pull up on the other side of the bars. Negan's pleased to see him. It's a sadistic kind of satisfaction. When he saunters up to the gate Rick doesn't shy away, not at first. He's all steely gaze, eyes spitting fire in Negan's direction. It's like nails on a chalkboard.

" _Ri-ick_ ," He warns, "You asking for a reenactment of what went down last time you gave me that look? 'Cause I _really_ don't think you want a repeat of that shit show."

Rick hesitates.

"You hiding another boy I can-" Negan clicks his tongue, imitates a swinging motion.

Rick's vision falls to Negan's boots. It's almost comical, the way all it takes is a little reminder of his dead kid to push him back into submission. A triumphant smirk settles over Negan's lips.

"Atta boy."

Rick pulls open the gate without a word.

Negan takes half their shit and more. Ransacks every little white-picket-fenced house and takes each and every luxury item they've got on them. Doesn't bother to leave them with the comfort of a bed to sleep on. He stays for hours, careens Rick up and over the streets and back again till he makes it clear that every move Rick makes belongs to him because Rick _belongs to him._

He makes Rick carry the damn baseball bat, pushes it over into Rick's lax palm with feral excitement like a kid waiting for fireworks. Waits for Rick to break out in hysterical sobs. He doesn't. Rick takes it like a champ. Negan hides his disappointment. Holds him real close, slips a hand into Rick's back pocket just to make him tick.

Rick cracks eventually. He's standing in the center of the mess and clutching that cowboy hat when Negan decides he wants that too. It's the same hat that sat atop Carl's head, must have been, judging from the look Rick gives him when Negan pries it from his fingers. It's a pleading gaze, the same Rick wore that night. Negan laughs, waves the relic Rick held like a lifeline over his head before tossing it over to a Savior.

"Put that with the rest of the shit," He says, watches the way Rick's hungry hands clench and unclench at his sides.

Rick's crying again. Negan chuckles. Gives the man a pat on the cheek. He's not about to show mercy. This is Rick's new way of life, and he damn well better get used to it.

Negan lights the fire and lets Rick simmer. Knows eventually he'll have to adapt to the heat.

 

  
From that point on every visit from The Saviors follows suit. Rick's little townspeople behave, Negan torments Rick, takes their shit, and leaves. He comes once a week. Sometimes he can't make it, so he'll come the next. But damn if he'll miss seeing Rick's empty little gaze at the mention of Carl. It stirs something inside him, seeing his enemy's retaliatory spirit falter.

And it's all the same until it isn't. Until one day Rick isn't there to greet him at the gate. Negan sucks in a breath through his teeth, hopes the Alexandrians aren't lacking a reminder of who's in charge. He'd made a hell of a first impression, afterall. Though, he could always introduce a few folk to Lucille. Get them _real_ closely acquainted.

He'd rather not get his hands dirty. Negan strolls up to the entrance whistling, his bat slung over his shoulder.

"Where's Rick?" He aks the creepy priest who stands in Rick's place.

Father Fuckface swallows visibly, eyes Lucille's barbwire as Negan taps against the bars. They clang, and the guy - And shit, he can’t remember the guy’s name - laughs nervously and says some shit about how Rick's inside. Negan holds back an eye roll when he doesn't move to open the gate.

 _Gabriel_ , he tells himself. He's seen him around, sometimes he'll hover when Negan shows up like some goddamn guardian angel, just waiting to cleanse Negan of his sins. Drones on and on in this tone, like he's from some kind of Utopia. It makes Negan's skin crawl. Gives him the heebie jeebies.

Though, he's not exactly looking to make a cleric pancake, so the idiot better hustle. Negan grins. Gives him the benefit of the doubt. He's a reasonable kind of guy. But he's only got so much patience.

Gabriel must realize his mistake because he lunges at the gate, stuttering out something along the lines of " _Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even realize-_ " before Negan cuts him off with a hand on his way in.

"Hell of a welcome," He grumbles, gives the signal for the rest of his men to flood in.

They head for the pantry and Negan directs himself into the direction of Rick's house. It's a nice little home. A two story building with all the works; a porch, a cute little lawn, a bright yellow door. _Last he was inside Rick even had granite counter tops and a stainless steel fridge!_  Rick's got himself a post-apocalyptic little suburb, Negan will give him that. Has always admired Rick's clean cut street in contrast to his factory. It's fit for all of Rick's little needs. A picture perfect place to raise a family. At least, it probably had been before.

Negan lets himself in without knocking, isn't about to knock at the door of a house that belongs to him, and is surprised to find Rick nowhere in sight.

"Oh Rick," He calls, tone dripping with mock sweetness.

He frowns, flinging open doors and finding empty rooms. Decides to clamber up the stairs. It must be his lucky day, because when he pulls open the first door he's met with Rick's back. Rick turns and Negan's day just keeps getting better and better.

There's a little girl with a cherubic face perched on his hip, can't be more than two or three, and Negan very nearly melts at the sight. It's not like he doesn't see babies anymore, there's plenty back at the sanctuary. But the kid is too damn cute. The last thing Negan expected to see was a reason for Rick to keep going. Looks like he's got two little bundles of joy.

Well. One.

Rick must realize what Negan's discovery means, because he pales and his hold on his daughter visibly gets a little tighter. Negan gets it, he does, with what happened mere weeks ago. Rick was probably praying that Negan wouldn't find his second kid, probably thinks she'll meet the same fate Carl had. Good. Let him. The little girl belongs to Negan now, too.

"What's her name?"

Negan's all teeth, a Cheschire Cat grin stretching up to his ears. There's mirth dancing in his eyes but Rick probably sees it as fire. His arms are outstretched and he waits. And waits. He trains Rick with a look. A wordless threat. _Don't make me do it._

"Judith," Rick tells him, eyes him wearily.

His grip on the baby doesn't ease, he doesn't look ready to hand her over anytime soon. Negan frowns.

"Don't want little Judy here to meet Lucille, do we?" He croons, pets his fingers through her honey blonde curls, fixes Rick with a sharp gaze, " _Do we?_ "

Rick wavers, has to take a step back. It's an empty threat, but Rick doesn't see that. Probably sees Negan as the damn devil. All he's missing are some horns, Christ. He's a brutal man, he won't deny that. His words hold a sharp edge but his bat's got a sharper exterior. He's curt and is a man of his word, but fuck if he'll kill a baby. He's still human. Has got a soft spot for the little ones. Rick doesn't realize. Negan is glad. It gives him more leverage.

"Hand her over," Negan motions.

It's not a request. Rick knows that. His hands are shaking when he lets Negan cradle the toddler to his chest. Instantly, Negan's smile softens, tongue coming out to poke between his teeth. Rick's tense, like he's waiting for Negan to chuck the kid out the window.

Negan doesn't. He turns away and bounces her gently. Her fingers graze over his beard and he cooes.

"Won't hurt the little angel," He promises, tone soft but words hard in contrast, "Carl was a big boy. He could handle it. Won't do the same to her till she's ready, too."

And then that predatory leer is back. Rick recoils. He hobbles to the crib, holds on to it for balance.

"Hey, Rick," Negan starts, dimples creasing as Judith rakes her little fingers over his cheek, "How come you weren't there at the gate when I showed up?"

Rick doesn't respond, is probably still processing the idea of Negan taking away the only thing he's got left, but Negan doesn't turn around to check.

"Because that is your job last I checked, right? To service me. To provide for me. Give me a friendly welcome when I come knocking and a goddamn box of cookies when you send me on my merry way. Or do I have to remind you who's in charge?"

"No," Rick stammers out, voice quiet and eyes downcast when Negan turns, "You don't - you don't have to do that."

"You know what, Rick? I think I just might fucking have to. You know what I got stuck with at the gate today? That damn freaky ass church boy of yours. Doesn't even know when to invite your special guest in."

Instead of falling at Negan's feet and begging for forgiveness the way Negan expected Rick would, Rick fucking talks back.

"Could you -" He stutters, leaves Negan wheezing when he says, "Could you not swear? She's been picking up words fast."

Rick's damn lucky Negan's got a baby in his arms, or he'd be giving Rick a nice, hard uppercut.

"Picking up on words? Well you're just a little fuckin' genius aren't you, darlin'?" He says to Judy instead.

He makes Rick apologize about the issue, makes him promise it won't happen again. Lights a fire under his ass with a little _"Holy shit! Someone's going to die!"_

 

  
Except it does happen again. Rick's up in the nursery when he sees movement in the corner of his eye. It's a lovely midday surprise. The Saviors fan out over the street below him. He's nearly shitting bricks as he lurches down his porch steps.

"Well look who it is! It's Rick, everybody!"

Today Negan's face is clean shaven, and the change makes him that much more intimidating.

"You know what, Rick? I thought we were on the same page last week -"

"We were, _we are,_ " He tries to reason. Needs a second to catch his breath.

"- But you know what? I just don't see you putting in the effort."

He tuts, shakes his head, and turns away. Lets Lucille drop from his shoulder and dangle at his side. Rick eyes the bat vigilantly.

"I come here hoping for one thing, and that's to see my favorite neighbor, Rick."

Rick glowers. Negan whips around just as he does.

"Oh shit, Rick. I really suggest you get control over your face. Because if I'm not mistaken, and I don't think I fucking am, you're glaring at me."

Rick inhales. Tries to muster some goddamn self control. He glares down at his shoes instead.

"You know who was at the gate this time instead of my _favorite neighbor?_ " says Negan, capitalizing on the false compliment.

It's a rhetorical question, Rick knows.

"It was the mullet guy! You know... hell's his name?"

"Eugene," Simon supplies from the crowd.

" _Eugene!_ " Negan's fingers snap.

His grin isn't contagious.

"You know, the fucking weird one," He takes a second before he crowds up into Rick's space, "I don't come here with the hopes of talking to your weird friends at the gate, Rick. I'm only trying to slip my dick down _your_ throat."

Rick flinches. There's a bark of laughter. It's from Negan.

"And you know what he told me? He told me some real interesting shit. Like, this information just changes the whole game."

There's a mix of Alexandrians in the assembly now, they stare into the center of the ring. Watch the wolf over the cowering rabbit.

"He told me how you haven't been leaving your house much. And I'm like, 'well what the fuck?' because you're supposed to be out there getting shit for me," He motions beyond the walls, gives Rick a comical look, "I mean, _what the fuck, Rick?_ "

Rick doesn't say anything. A hand clasps over his shoulder. It's Negan's free one, the one that's not holding Lucille, which no longer hangs over the ground but instead sits up on his shoulder.

"Look, Rick, I get it. Your son died. But, I mean, tough shit. We've already burned that bridge."

He gives a nonchalant shrug, like Rick doesn't crumble every time he's reminded. Rick trembles. Desperately wipes at his traitorous tears.

"Come on, Rick, don't fucking cry," Negan laughs, kicks Rick while he's down a little further as he adds, "Haven't killed your second one just yet."

And Rick _definitely_ feels the salt in his wounds Negan has sprinkled. He tries not to let the sting show.

"But _anyways_ ," Negan continues, finally dips out of Rick's personal space as he turns for the other direction, "I think I might just have the perfect solution. I don't feel like you're doing jack shit over here, walking around all damn mopey. How about you come back with me and we'll find a use for you back at The Sanctuary-"

"No," Rick cuts him off, tone hard and cold.

Negan circles back. Furrows his brows like he didn't quite hear right.

"It wasn't a suggestion."

"I'm not going with you," Rick bites, valiant when Negan steps into his space again.

"No? Well, we'll just have to do something about that, Rick. Since you've got all these ideas of your own. Dwighty Boy, go get me the asian one."

"Glenn, sir?"

"Fuck-evers his name. Go get him."

And, _no_. That's just not right. Rick's heart leaps up into his throat when they drag Glenn into the center, shove him down onto his knees. There's screaming somewhere in the background. It's Maggie, maybe.

"No, no, you don't - I'll go with you," Rick rushes out, "You don't have to - _I'll go_ -"

"Rick, calm down," Negan patronizes from his right, gives Lucille an experimental little swing, "Take a deep breath. In and out, now. Good boy."

A sheet of cold sweat coats Rick when Negan whistles, moseys over behind Glenn.

"So," He booms, "What was it you were trying to say?"

"I'll go with you, I'll do whatever you want me to do, I promi-"

"Well see, that's the thing, Rick. You make all these promises you can't keep. And that shit is really starting to grate on my nerves."

Rick's breath catches in his throat as Negan juggles the bat from hand to hand.

"And it's a beautiful day for some practice."

He heaves the bat up through the air. Brings it up and over his head. Rick steadies a hand out, scrabbles for some kind of control.

"I'll go, I'll go with you, please. _Please_."

"Of course you will," Negan's mouth twists up at the edges. He lets Lucille droop at his side. Looks over at Rick with the most malicious smirk.

"But you really need to start watching it with the fucking attitude. I gave you fair warning, Rick. _No_ _exceptions!_ "

And then Glenn's on the ground with his blood seeping out onto the covetous pavement. Rick can feel the splatter of it scald his skin from their proximity. The scene is like a broken record. Just keeps replaying behind Rick's eyelids the whole drive.

 

  
When Rick arrives, Negan doesn't give him a tour. He doesn't give him much of anything, just grabs him by the back of the neck and shuffles him into a dark room. And Negan wonders how he hadn't seen it before, surely Rick's _beard_ must have been a sign of his blatant disregard. Rick wasn't handling his son's death well, and Negan didn't exactly blame him. _Let bygones be bygones_ , he'd sneer. But it was a tragedy. It really fucking was.

Negan makes it his mission to break Rick. And he's already got a head start, bits Rick's sanity already interspersed. He supposes it defeats the initial purpose of bringing him back, but it's not as if he can just trust Rick to wander around. He's not exactly recruiting with open arms.

He doesn't let Rick know how long he'll keep him there. That's all part of the fun. The anticipation. Not his, of course. He keeps Rick in there for a week or two. Personally delivers his meals so he can drop a comment about Carl.

"Well, well, well," Negan says one day, throws open the door one day without warning.

Rick's huddled in the corner.

"How are you doing, Rick?" He doesn't give Rick much time to respond before he tells him, "I'm not going to ask you the usual shit. You know, what side you're on. I don't need to."

He gives Rick time to talk back then, expects some kind of smart remark, but he doesn't hear one. Rick doesn't say anything.

 


End file.
